Last Stop
by palomino333
Summary: Set during Melee. "I've wanted to get out of here, but now that it looks like that might be happening, I'm regretting that wish." The fights have grown more difficult, and it appears Master Hand has an ulterior motive. Captain Falcon considers his chance at freedom, as well as what opportunities will be left behind. Captain Falcon/Samus Aran one-shot.


This took quite a bit of editing. I'm familliar with Captain Falcon and Samus Aran's Super Smash Brothers incarnations (save Brawl, which I did not play), but not necessarily their versions in their respective games serieses, F-Zero and Metroid. The same also goes for Fox McCloud of StarFox. The problem was that I grew up playing games on Sony as opposed to Nintendo systems, and I only got to play Super Smash Brothes whenever a friend had me over. However, I took the time to research each respective game series, and decided to make the characters more like their Out-of-Smash incarnations in order to fit the tone of the story.

That being said, I'm not sure whether Smash Mansion actually existed in the Melee timeline, or not. I have, however, seen it used in fanfiction for this fandom, and I decided to implement it for this story. Besides, the characters all had to be somewhere. Off-days also aren't canon, but I don't think the characters were kept within the mansion forever, otherwise they would have terrible cabin fever.

I made this story darker for the simple fact that I wanted to show another aspect of the smashers. Certainly, not everyone can necessarily be happy that they have to live in Smash Mansion against their will. The unseen event that Master Hand is building toward in the story is based upon the Classic scenario of the game. A player character fights enemy computer characters until he/she has accumulated enough victories to face off against Master Hand himself. When he is defeated, the character's classic figurine is won. I took this in a different direction by implying that if Master Hand is defeated this time, the characters will be free to leave Smash Mansion.

The origin of Captain Falcon's scar is never mentioned in the F-Zero or Super Smash Brothers game serieses, or in the F-Zero anime. My explanation for it isn't canon, but I downplayed its occurrence for a reason. Falcon is a racer and bounty hunter. He can't afford to make mistakes. The fact that such a little one would leave a physical abrasion on him would play it up in importance.

Traction is not fun. It's a procedure used to straighten broken bones that was more prevalent in older times, but it sometimes is used today in forms such as the Milwaukee brace.

I own nothing.

* * *

"Call it what you want, it's home."

Cynicism and a small sort of longing were easy to hear in Captain Douglas Jay Falcon's voice as he wiped his hands on an already grease-covered rag.

"This garage? It's a nice place, Falcon. Reminds me of my ship's hangar," Samus Aran's reply came from the helm of the Blue Falcon, the dome of its cockpit currently up, "want me to put this down?"

"Go ahead," he replied, tossing it onto a work bench, "we're finished here."

She held firmly onto it as it came down.

It was quite the rare occasion to see the female bounty hunter out of uniform, but there was sense to her appearance. Samus was more identified by her Power Suit than her actual face, therefore going without it made for a better disguise. That aside, she wasn't planning on returning to this metropolis without it. One time was enough.

Once it was closed, she placed her hands to her back, bending to stretch. "Thanks for inviting me, by the way. It's a nice break."

He grinned. "Not a problem. Glad to have ya."

Turning toward the opening to the garage to watch the Sun's descending rays cast shadows over the thick vegetation, Samus commented, "I can see why you prefer to live here. Neither of us would go hungry in Mute City, but it's too easy to get tired of it."

She turned back to him, frowning. "Would you imagine if someone else from the Mansion visited one of our home worlds?"

He shook his head, leaning back against the wall behind him. "Yeah, let's not."

She nodded soberly. "I can agree with that."

Falcon waved a hand as he fully stood. "Why don't we change the subject? The day's almost out, and we have matches tomorrow afternoon."

"What do you have in mind?" She prompted.

He strode past her to stand outside. "Don't take this the wrong way, but why don't we sit by the coast? It's been a while since I've done that."

"Gee, Captain, I didn't know you were such a romantic," Samus replied in a mock-sultry voice as she joined him outside, raising a blonde eyebrow, "sure, I'll join you."

The roars of cars and the general noise of barely-contained chaos of Port Town were silenced by the distance, allowing the sound of salt water lapping against the shore to provide uninterrupted comfort.

Falcon took a seat on a rock, while Aran picked up a smooth stone to casually toss it. Two soft plops resounded as it bounced twice over the already-broken waves, with a much harder third one announcing its sinking.

"Not bad," he observed, bending over to pick up one of his own, and toss it. It bounced three times before it too sunk.

Samus laughed, a soft breeze billowing the free strands of her hair. "We're like two little kids."

He shifted his position. "That's not always a bad thing."

"No, of course not," spreading her arms, she continued, "you see this expansive ocean before you, and can never imagine its depth of secrets."

Turning back to look at him, she added, "Pun not intended, of course. It's well-charted, but its vast expanse serves as a reminder of how little we know, and how much we'll never know."

Falcon smirked. "Ever considered teaching philosophy, Samus?"

"Shut up," she replied, folding her arms and leaning toward him, "besides, you're one to talk. You spend most of your time here alone. You've probably done your own fair share of thinking."

He held up hand, palm vertically up. "I was just making a comment."

As he lowered it, Samus turned the whole way to face him, her eyes narrowing in the fading light. "Falcon, why did you invite me over today? I highly doubt it was just to shoot the breeze."

He grinned. "Oh really? I thought you enjoy doing that with me."

She returned it for only a moment. "Can't say I don't, but I would be a fool to not consider an underlying meaning, and you're running out of time to tell me what it is. I have to leave soon if I want to have any time to myself, and to be back at Smash Mansion by tomorrow morning."

Rising from the rock up, Falcon countered in a sober voice, "I suppose I'll be expecting a threat from you otherwise?"

"Don't flatter yourself," Samus replied evenly, "you'll be expecting a promise."

Tossing his yellow scarf over his shoulder, the Captain replied, "Well, I wouldn't want that, now would I? You want to know so badly, I'll tell you. I'm just surprised that you haven't found it out yourself."

She chuckled at that moment. "I thought so. You were showing me your turf, weren't you?"

He gave her a small session of clapping. "Strong, beautiful, and smart. Samus, you have it all."

She, as a result, became surly once more, but before she could make another retort, he obligingly explained himself.

"Yes, I was showing you my land of jurisdiction. We have fought alongside each other in battle more than once, and you deserve the commendations I just made," his voice became terse as he continued, "but you have also proved yourself to be a worthy opponent."

Taking a step forward to utilize his superior height, Falcon tipped his helmeted head down at Aran, who held her ground. "I'll warn you once. Don't expect any favors from me if you decide to take your business here, understood?"

She narrowed her eyes for a moment, and looked down, closing them.

A moment later, a deeper chuckle, one from the back of her throat, issued from her. "I was wondering when you were gonna say this. A little late, but at least I'm not disappointed," meeting his partially-concealed eyes, she replied evenly, "likewise, don't expect anything from me if you decide to hunt in my territory."

Indicating herself with her thumb, Samus declared, "Now, if you'll kindly excuse me, I have to go."

She turned away from him to start off in the opposite direction.

Aran had made it quite a few steps away when her first name was called.

Turning, she asked impatiently, "What now?"

"Drop in anytime! I could use a good challenge!"

At least he had a sense of humor about it.

XXXXXX

Falcon gritted his teeth as he skidded to a halt on the worn, cracked stone, his hands splayed before him.

He threw his head up just in time to see the glint of Marth's downward-pointed blade as the warrior prince pounced on him from the platform above.

The Captain reacted just time by rolling forward and springing to his feet, causing the blade in question to strike the ground, emitting a few sparks and a loud pinging noise from the crash.

Falcon had never once thought that a young man wielding medieval weaponry would ever pose a threat to him, considering the technologically-advanced age in which he dwelled.

Now, he found himself to be standing corrected, having been knocked backward by a powerful arrow shot by the elf, Link, and nearly taking a vital hit from Marth.

Not that he was alone in this, of course.

A taunting "Come on!" issued from behind the pointy-eared lad, causing him to in turn whip around and dash vengefully after Fox.

How fitting, considering Link's bow was still drawn.

Douglas took a step back as Marth slashed at him, before attempting a kick.

He had never considered Master Hand to be poetic, considering the entity engaged people, mythical creatures, and animals alike in oftentimes brutal fights, but Falcon could admit that he could be proven wrong from time to time.

He was paired up with Fox, and the two were clad in blue, while Link and Marth wore green. The battle was taking place at the ancient arena of Hyrule Temple, and it pitted the futuristic life forms against the more archaic.

Marth successfully dodged the kick by hopping into the air. "I'm afraid you need to do better than that," he remarked in an almost regretful voice before bringing his blade up and thrusting madly, his frame highlighted in quick-changing colors.

His target managed to block the first with his arm, but didn't fare so well with the others.

With a few grunts and stifled exclamations of pain, Falcon took the full force of the blows, while somewhere in the back of his mind between the bouts of agony he knew that the full extent of the sword's power was restrained by Master Hand. Otherwise, he would be a bloody mess, and an audience wouldn't take too well to actual death.

The final scoring hit sent him flying onto his side beneath the stone pillars. The Captain groaned as his hip slammed against the ground.

After shaking his head to regain his bearings, he could see his attacker charging for him once more.

With a smirk, he chose not to move, instead waiting for the correct moment.

Seizing it, Falcon leapt up and forward, grasping a hold of a startled Marth's shoulders before driving his knee up into his chin, and hurling him backward with a jubilant cry of "yes!"

The prince flew backwards over the edge, only to reach out and grab it with a wordless exclamation of fear.

It was punctuated even more by the gasp given by the spectators of this match, who although were unseen to the smashers, were kept at a perfect vantage point to view the fight, courtesy of Master Hand's powers.

The exploding shots of Fox's ray gun echoed in the air as the pale fingers scrabbled to find purchase in a crack in the stone path.

Falcon slowly stepped forward, although the impulse to dart over and assist him was strong.

He knew no harm would befall Marth if he let go, for Master Hand would simply retrieve him to start again, but the desire to help remained, especially considering this was a good man. Now, if say, Ganandorf or Bowser had been hanging over the edge, the Captain would surely rather have offered a foot as opposed to a hand.

Despite the fact that his team's score did depend upon the amount of falls just as much as the amount of hits, Falcon, save for the aforementioned condition concerning certain immoral entities, was against playing dirty by driving the struggling male over the edge.

Although he wasn't sure how much time remained on the clock, the Captain relentlessly played the waiting game. It wasn't to the racer's merit, so he semi-entertained himself by watching those spidery fingers dance on the ground while stepping one leg back, and half-crouching.

His patience was awarded by Marth letting out a fierce grunt as he alighted before him in a full crouch, his cape flaring out like a tail, and bearing a fierce, defiant expression.

It was short-lived, however, for in the next moment, Falcon sprung toward him once more, swinging his leg upward to collide it with his neck.

Marth's shocked face flashed for a moment as he was thrown backwards, emitting a choked cry from the injury. He disappeared over the edge, the scream rapidly decreasing in volume with the distance he plunged down until it was cut short, Master Hand having caught him.

A cheer from the audience rose at the literal knockout.

The Captain gave a self-satisfied smirk as the as the announcer called time.

XXXXXX

"It was an honor to have fought against you." Marth declared as he bowed beside Link.

In response, the blue-clad winners gave short, proper salutes.

"Pleasure was ours," Fox declared, although his tone didn't quite the hold the necessitated warmth. Rather, it was as if it was a simple matter of business.

The prince and elf did not seem to mind it, however, as they rose to leave.

Hyrule had vanished, and the four were once more gathered before the mansion, the spectators having already been transported to another arena to watch the next fight.

Fox shook his head as his jacket's color faded once more to his standard white.

Douglas raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter?"

He swished his tail. "Sorry I messed up. Usually I'm better in these fights."

Falcon shrugged. "You fell once. No big deal, we won anyway."

McCloud rolled his eyes, stopping short. "Last time I checked, you were getting hit hard before I sprung back in. At least accept an apology, Captain."

Turning to address him respectfully, he returned, "What do you want to me to do, lay into you? No one's perfect."

He waved a paw, his eyes closed for a moment. "Trust me, I know that all too well."

Lowering it back to his side, the he began to explain, "Here's my issue. Actually, Falco and I actually discussed this the other night."

He began to pace back and forth on the grass. "Let's face it, the matches aren't as randomized anymore. I'd be a complete idiot to think that there wasn't something going on when we were paired together against Link and Marth. I mean, yeah, it was weird at first, when I got paired together with Jigglypuff…"

Fox paused to rub his temples, and Falcon couldn't keep a slight smile from making its appearance on his face. "If it makes you feel any better, I was put together with Ness. He's a talented kid, but it wasn't compatible."

McCloud's snigger was caught in his paw, and Douglas decided not to comment. It was rather absurd, a carnivorous ace pilot paired with a big-eyed, singing pink puffball, and a star racer working together with a psychic student.

Once the moment had passed, Fox dropped his hand to look up at him. "But remember that match between Roy and Kirby, and Mewtwo and Ganondorf? Poor kid was out of commission for a week, and I swore Kirby looked like a deflated balloon. That was even with everyone's powers being dulled."

A bitter taste was in Douglas' mouth as he replied, "'Course I do. Dr. Mario was slaving over them for hours. Felt good to have Ganondorf's jaw cracked."

The final sentence was said as an afterthought at the memories of him having to help Marth hold Roy still as the boy writhed in pain while having his bones reset in traction, and hearing Jigglypuff's soft lullabies at night as she lulled poor, aching Kirby to sleep.

Master Hand could instigate matches, and reset someone's health, but the latter only pertained if he/she was flung over the edge. Falcon was rightfully suspicious about this loophole, but it didn't seem to be something that would be subject to change anytime soon.

Mewtwo had at least been cold about it, decidedly keeping to himself as usual, and not venturing to apologize for having a "hand" in the beating. This, although less than ethical in many of his fellow smashers' opinions, did not go against regulations, as the matter had pertained to a past match. All aggression was left in the arena.

The Gerudo, on the other hand, had been full of himself, boasting about the perfect victory. Neither he nor Mewtwo had taken a single hit during the match due to their sheer force, and he had prided himself on it. True, his pride had been justified, but the cruelty each partner had bestowed upon their opponents had outweighed it.

Link, tiring rapidly of such behavior, had flung his boomerang at him, effectively shutting him up for a while.

"Oh, definitely," Fox agreed, "but didn't you notice that after that, Master Hand started getting smarter about matches? He pitted Samus and Zelda against each another in a one-on-one match, and it was a close one after Zelda became Sheik."

Falcon knew that all too well. Aran had been the victor, and had spent the majority of the following night between sparring with him, and target practice on slender cardboard figures.

"Then it would make sense why we were against Link and Marth," the Captain deduced, "since both are as acrobatic as us. Link is about the size that you are, and Marth is somewhat close to me in build."

Folding his arms, Fox shook his head. "Not to mention that each knows how to wield a weapon. If you would just use that pistol you have holstered, things would be much easier."

Falcon reached down, his fingers closing around the firearm.

Fox cracked open an eye at the noise, and opened both in surprise as he drew it, and swung it upwards.

A moment later, Douglas squeezed the trigger, and fired up at the sky, the bang shattering the stillness.

"You know I didn't mean it like that, wise guy." Fox muttered as the bounty hunter holstered it once more.

He shrugged in response. "I can count on one hand how many times I've actually shot this gun, but we're getting off topic."

After twitching his ears once in irritation, McCloud replied, "My point is that the writing's on the wall. Master Hand is picking out the better fighters, if not the best one. For what, I'm not sure yet, but considering the fact that Roy and Kirby got that beat up when they lost, and he couldn't care less, it's not looking good for those who don't make it."

"And you're bouncing this off of me because I'm a racer and a bounty hunter. I don't, therefore, take well to losing. That sound about right?" Falcon prompted.

He nodded. "That, and the fact that I happened to be on the same team as you when I got humiliated. I really need to blow off some steam."

Douglas returned the nod. He could sympathize with that statement.

Fox turned to look out the mansion's closed gates. "It's been nice getting to know you, Captain, as well as the others, but I'm hoping that whatever Master Hand is doing, he gets it over with so we can all leave this place for good. Getting off days isn't enough; they're too short, and they feel more like visits than anything else. For as often as I came and went by choice, Corneria was, is, and always will be, my home."

"I understand," Falcon replied earnestly, "it feels more and more like a prison here than anything else. I would much rather be racing to my heart's content, instead of beating up someone I see and talk to day in and day out."

"Thanks," McCloud responded before relaxing his pose, and taking on a more tired expression, "we've been out here long enough, and I promised Luigi I'd play him at darts."

Walking past the Captain, he continued more to himself, "And if Bowser tries to distract me again, I swear…"

Falcon turned to take one last look at the iron gates. It was still quite a while before evening would occur. Every few days, Master Hand would unlock the gates to allow the "residents" to leave for a few hours after the conclusion of the day's matches, but it wasn't enough. Unregulated attempts to leave would be met with disciplinary actions, usually consisting of less off-days, or even the confiscation of a treasured belonging for an extended period. Even attempts to remain at their respective home worlds were met with swift action.

Smashers such as the Captain, Samus, Falco, and Fox were special cases, as they could provide their own transportation back to the mansion. That was why Aran had been so intent upon returning in enough time, otherwise Master Hand would confiscate her ship for an extended period as punishment.

The city beyond the gates, consisting of a booming population of avid spectators of their fights, was something worth skipping. Falcon had been used to avid fans as a racer, but these people were simply crazy. Some demanded smashers seen near each other to battle each other out of the arena, while others hounded the smashers for details on their personal lives, all the while blinding their idols with camera flashes, or trying to grab at them. It was ridiculous.

He hoped that Fox was right.

XXXXXX

Samus let out a contented sigh, laying the arm that ended in a gun in her free hand. She leaned slightly to the side, her weight tiredly distributed. With a sigh, she leaned her helmeted head back against the wall behind her.

"I think you had a point," she muttered, her head lolling slightly as she addressed her friend.

Falcon gave a nod, and turned to look out at the other smashers gathered in the main room. It had been a week since his discussion with Fox, and he was finding the Cornerian's theory to be true.

The matches, which had multiplied in occurrence, had become far more intense, with some of them even featuring prizes, such as a figurine made in the likeness of the winner. The gym was populated for the majority of, if not all of, a single day at a time.

Despite the fact that Master Hand had allotted days off, and gave hours for rest and rejuvenation as usual, the tenseness that was felt within Smash Mansion hung over them. Conversations were less often in occurrence, and more frequently than not, the content of them mainly revolved around the matches, or tales of home. The smashers still ate and relaxed together, but the silence was steadily growing.

For as nice as the figurines were, they were too little in material value to cause such a change. No, it wasn't the objects themselves, but their meaning. The rewards for victories had been, for the main part, bragging rights, although from time to time, Master Hand had awarded extra off-days to the winners. Trophies, however, hadn't been given in any form until just recently. Something greater was in the works.

Peach was in the middle of a game of a bridge with Zelda. The two were silent, as opposed to how they regularly chatted among themselves.

Fox and Falco were playing a game of pool around the billiard table, which had been battered on one side from Nana and Popo accidentally sliding into it while "ice skating" on a puddle from Mario mopping the floor a few weeks before. The two looked up at the Captain, McCloud with his stick parallel to the surface as he lined up a shot, and Lombardi holding his vertically to the side. A moment later, a crack was heard as the nine-ball struck the one.

The television set hummed from the other side of the room. Pichu, Pikachu, Jigglypuff, and Kirby were clustered around it, with Jigglypuff sitting closest to Kirby. Falcon wasn't sure what they were watching, but it appeared to resemble children's programming, with its quick-moving, bright images, and jovial music.

"What's on your mind, Falcon?" Samus asked.

Turning back to her, he replied, "I've wanted to get out of here, but now that it looks like that might be happening, I'm regretting that wish."

She gave a nod of understanding. "Wanna take this somewhere else, or are you fine here?"

Falcon took another look at the bridge game. The faces of Zelda's cards stood out to him as she drew. One jack, staring out bleakly, two fours, one of spades, the other of diamonds, and a motherly-looking queen were joined by an ace of hearts.

The princess of Hyrule leaned forward to murmur something to the princess of Mushroom Kingdom, who in turn nodded with a smile. The vibrations of their bodies indicated that they were giggling.

"Yeah, let's do that." Falcon decided, heading for the stairs that led down and out of the room.

The sunlight was soft, casting the shadows of the trees and overhang.

Link, his eyes closed, was resting his back against the trunk of a tree he was sitting underneath. His younger self was nearby in the same shade, his back to the mansion as he looked out at the landscape, before plopping down to take a drink from the bottle he kept on his person.

The red kite Ness was flying cut across the blue sky. Nana and Popo stood on either side of him. The three occasionally passed the spool of thread back and forth, and occasionally fanned out to walk the kite around.

The two bounty hunters took their seats off to the side of the stairs leading up to the front doors.

He'd told her about his conversation with McCloud, thinking it only fair, considering Falco had already known. Douglas had only partly believed him at that point, but it was still enough to form misgivings.

Samus had been skeptical, and rightfully so. With a reply of, "We'll see what happens," she had said no further on the matter, rather steering the conversation to an in-depth description of the planet Zebes, her childhood home.

Now, however, she asked, "What did you mean?"

Her green visor cloaked her face, but the tilt of her head and tone of her voice betrayed her curiosity.

Falcon leaned back on his hands. "I live on my own for my protection. Staying within the city is suicide."

Turning to face her, he added in a lighter tone, "Imagine my discomfort at living with all of you in Smash Mansion."

He supposed she was rolling her eyes when she asked, "Really, Falcon? You didn't think I went through the same thing?"

He smirked, reaching up to grasp the side of his helmet from the base. Lifting it, he replied, "When did I ever come off as blind to you?"

He placed his helmet down on the stair below him before giving a few shakes of his head. The brown hair that had once been plastered to his head by the headgear, and sweat from the previous match against Roy, stood up a little.

The more the Captain reminded himself of that match, the sorer he felt. The young swordsman had been fighting hard to make up for his terrible loss at the hands of Ganandorf and Mewtwo, and Falcon had taken the brunt of it.

Roy had still lost, but the match had been close, leaving Douglas with serious bruising on his torso and arms, and his adversary with a torn arm muscle, a badly-beaten shoulder, and a nasty bruise in the middle of his stomach.

Douglas was being truthful with himself in his thankfulness for no further matches of the day. The kid had put up quite a fight, and had spared either of them the degradation of falling. He surmised that the harshest of the beatings hadn't been due to any hatred from Roy, but rather gratitude, in an odd way. The boy had been well aware of the fact that the Captain had assisted him when he was in pain, and he had wanted to prove that he was no longer in such need.

She chuckled. "I never said you did."

He ran his hand for a moment over the scar that lanced through his left eyebrow. One mistake. Granted, he'd made several more in his dual careers, but this had been the defining one. Falcon had been young and inexperienced, and his folly had given his target the opportunity to strike.

The crime lord, inconsequential and ridiculously lucky as he was, had been armed with a standard issue pistol. Said boss had been more skilled with telling others what to do, rather than getting his hands dirty.

Douglas' younger self had been cocky, having found victory on the race track several times. Compared to a fast-paced race, the fight would have been a piece of cake. After all, he hadn't lost before.

Young Falcon's mentality had been shattered when his antagonist had whipped out a knife, and gave him that scar, as well as several others. He'd still managed to bring the knife-wielder down, but not without the wounds.

Nothing important had come of that near-loss. Life had continued as usual. Still, Douglas saw that scar in every reflective surface when he was alone, and was confronted by the possibilities of what could have happened, had he faltered worse. His helmet took that feeling of foreboding away for the most part, as the scar was unseen, but it still remained. What if? What if?

Dropping his hand, he asked, "Then why do you think I invited you to my island, let alone allowed you to help me run a maintenance check on my F-Zero machine?"

She shrugged. "You wanted to show ownership over your territory, and you wanted to do less work for a change."

Samus reached up to remove her own helmet, revealing what remained ponytail, as most strands of her hair had tumbled free of the band, and a face still plastered with sweat and dead skin. Her eyelids drooped slightly. "In all seriousness, I get your point. I talk about my own exploits, and although I have worked alongside others at different times, I'm mainly on my own."

Leaning back as well after setting it down, she kept her eyes on him. "That's why it was so important to you to have me over, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "That, and as you said, claiming my territory."

Aran smiled before turning to look out at the gates. The smile slowly drifted off her face, her expression hardening. "Like you, I can't wait to get the hell out of here. The only time we're really allowed to leave is if a crisis comes up at home. Even then, we have to return."

She paused before asking, "But now?"

Turning back to him with a sly smile, Samus muttered, "Let's face it, I'm not very sentimental."

He replied simply, "I'm not, either."

She cast a gaze over her shoulder at those who were gathered in the field. "Even so, I can't help but feel like I'm going to miss most of those I met."

Samus frowned. "After all is said and done, the majority will probably not see each other again. It wouldn't matter to me as much, but it's going to hurt the others when they have to leave."

Falcon looked away from her for a moment to study the kite's movements as it did a half-loop in the wind, its tail consisting of red bows fluttering. "Yeah."

He shook his head in disgust. "It's funny. We've been here for months, and nothing will change. I can guarantee you that Hyrule and Mushroom Kingdom are still going to be attacked, while at the same time, we'll still have marks to hunt." Falcon stated dryly.

"That's true," she responded before jokingly adding, "although I'm doubting you actually hunt as much as you say you do. Case in point, we spent the entire day in Mute City at the race track."

Falcon gave her a soft punch in the arm. "Says the person who enjoyed being there."

"I wasn't saying that I didn't," she defended, "but you're going a bit far to compare your bounty hunting to mine."

"Keep telling yourself that," he replied evenly, "it doesn't make it any truer."

"Prove it," she prodded.

Giving his neck a crack, he retorted, "I've been able to hold my own in fights. I think that proves more than enough. Besides, you were the one who wanted to spar against me in the first place."

"It was either I asked you, or you'd spend the rest of the day sitting on the couch." Samus stated, indicating him with a pointing finger.

"Oh, sure," was his sarcastic reply, "insult my profession, and bring me down. You're too kind."

She smiled wryly. "You know it's all in good fun."

He returned it. "Of course I know that. I'm more than just a pretty face."

Their banter was disjointed when Aran replied, holding out her hand, "Shame I won't be seeing that same face as often."

Falcon grasped her hand, and brought it up to his cheek. It was far too intimate to be professional, but he didn't care. He kept his features expressionless, while hers were that of appropriate surprise.

"You do what you have to when you get back home. I'm used to being on my own, as are you."

She frowned once more. "Douglas, don't tell me what I already am aware of."

His eyes widened at the use of his first name. Samus had only ever addressed him by his surname or title before.

Her sheathed fingers stroked his cheek. Whatever she was contemplating, he wasn't sure, not that that was anything new.

If he was sure of anything, it was that he didn't want those same fingers to fall away from him.

"Samus?" Falcon asked softly.

Aran leaned forward.

Falcon had seen it coming, but it still hadn't taken away from the slight surprise he felt when her lips pressed on his. This was his friend and competitor. He had respected her strong sense of independence, and commitment to her goals.

Needless to say, he wasn't let down. She was insistent in the kiss, forcing him backwards a little.

Dropping her hand, he grasped onto her shoulders, pulling himself forward.

The resistance force she automatically applied kept her from falling into him.

He doubted the others in the front yard could see them, and he really didn't care. If this happened back in one of the racing metropolises on Earth, there would be a problem. Besides, he wasn't of the mind to allow this to go too far.

Falcon bit down on her lip in retaliation, bringing forth a groan from her.

Samus ran her tongue over his teeth before he released her lip.

With a slight smile, she kissed him once more, although in a far less passionate sense. She handled him with the utmost delicacy, in contrast to the former, her one arm slowly curling around his neck to hold tightly.

In response, his grip left her shoulders in order to embrace her torso, his hands lying upon the armor that covered her back.

It was strange to him. She was a tough, predatory girl, but it seemed that even she had her sense of softness.

Then again, he chided himself as her hand mischievously unraveled his scarf, leaving it to drape over one shoulder, so did he. Aran had seen it in his island home, and also in his qualms with their inevitable parting of ways.

It seemed too soon when she pulled away, but he kept a rigid countenance as he relinquished his grasp.

She spared him one final look before reaching down to pick up her helmet. Douglas didn't consider it regretful, rather disappointed, although not with him.

Her blue eyes held a sort of unhappiness to them, her mouth once again turned down in a frown. She looked ready to say something, but the act of grabbing her headgear replaced that notion.

Falcon knew what it was, but he kept it within for the sake of his own pride. Samus had expressed it in the interest of her friend's feelings.

It was a frustration at their circumstances. The two shared similar professions, and found kindred spirits in, among quite a few other things, their stubbornness to admit defeat. This sort of closeness could simply not be possible. Whether by the hand of an enemy, accident, war, or rivalry among each other, it would only meet a bitter end for the connection between the two.

The helmet slipped back over head to lock into place, and he heard a great rush of air coming from her. Whether it was the exhale of a long-held breath, or a sigh, he wasn't sure.

Douglas in turn grasped his own helmet as she rose.

Pushing himself off the stair, he stood, visor meeting visor.

"Sorry I have to cut this short, but I think it's time for me to rejuvenate for tomorrow." Aran explained.

Falcon nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Samus raised the arm that connected to her gun, and it bent at a right angle. The palm of her other hand connected with the bottom of her elbow. "See you at tomorrow's match."

He placed two fingers to the side of his helmet before allowing them to fall. "I'll be looking forward to it."

She dropped her arm with a nod before turning to walk back up the stairs.

Falcon watched that same arm pass ahead of his outstretched hand, and couldn't fight the thought of how easy it would be to grasp it just once, and stop her.

Yet, he knew it would be an insult to her dignity and competence to do so. If she wanted to speak further, she would stop herself.

Instead, he called out, "Oh, and Samus?"

She turned back at the top of the stairs. "What?"

He folded his arms. "Don't you dare pull any cheap moves on me. I think I deserve more than that."

Samus' smile was heard in her voice. "I wouldn't even dream of it, Captain."


End file.
